


3am

by SpoiledAmbrosia



Category: DC Extended Universe, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: ??? look im not a kink expert, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beer chugging, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Burping, Digger burps a LOT, Inflation, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Shotgunning, belly inflation, slipknots alive bc fuck canon!!!!!!, suicide squad???? we dont know her, they gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 08:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18517948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpoiledAmbrosia/pseuds/SpoiledAmbrosia
Summary: Nothing good comes from listening to Digger, this was no different.





	3am

**Author's Note:**

> ok it took everything in me not to name this cracking open a cold one with the boys

The cold sweat on the can sizzled in Chato’s hand, his other fiddling with a key - apparently it was an important part of  _ this. _ Chato eyed the beer, shaking it up like he’d been told. “This shit better not mess up my jacket, man.” 

 

Digger blew through his lips at him, his own key and beer in hand. “Oh, just get ready, will ya? I’m telling ya, hits you way harder this way.” Chato could believe that; the way Digger was leaning against the side of the car - stolen, long story - the cans he’d pounded back had already hit. 

 

“He’s right, you know.” Chimed Slip, cracking up his own brew from behind the wheel. He took a careful sip, not bothering to hide the humor in his smirk. “Careful, spitfire. Digger here can chug, man.” 

 

Chato gave him a dry look. “Ain’t say I couldn’t do it, just- been a minute.” Years. Back when he was young, he’d done a few shotguns. Wasn’t gonna _ choke.  _ Chato gave Digger a nod, holding his can close to his mouth. “You ready?” 

 

The smug look on Digger’s face was a silent jab at Chato’s pride. “O’ yeah, mate. You?” 

 

Chato hoped his glare said everything he didn’t trust himself to. “On three. One, two,  _ three- _ ” Chato slammed his hand into the can, wincing at the sudsy burst and rush of cold over his hand. Finger over the hole, pull the tab and - Chato threw the can and his head back, ale rushing through his senses and down his throat. It was slow going - he was fucking _ rusty _ , screw it. Chato was  _ maybe _ half through his he heard the punch and fizz of a can. Digger was on his fucking second.

 

He had to breathe. Chato ripped his mouth away, heaving and blinking at stars, can foaming at the puncture and hitting the ground. Chato coughed, stomach hating him and thundering. His gut gurgled, Chato covering his mouth as the gas found an out. “ _ Shit- _ ” He  _ burped _ , harsh and long, belly feeling just as upset once it was all out. “Ugh, fuck  _ that. _ ” 

 

His throat was on fire. Slip booed from the car. Chato flipped him off. 

 

Digger was - _ done _ , predictably. He’d dropped the emptied can and grabbed another, shaking it fiercely, laughing over Chato clearing his throat. “Don’t feel bad, mate,” Digger cut himself off with another quick chug, foam and spilt beer running into his beard. His shirt was a mess, jacket looking darker by the second, his tee just about splastered to him. The can ran empty, Digger dropping it with the other two at his feet. He grunted, hand pushing at his belly, catching a grumbling burp in his other. “Croc’s the only one who can keep up, and even he’s a friggin’ lightweight.” Digger’s gut gave a rumble, knuckles kneading at the growing swell as another burp surfaced. 

 

Slip sounded the horn, scaring Digger in the middle of another belch. “Ey, knock it  _ oo _ - _ ooff. _ ” Digger burped, reaching through the back window for another can, grunting at the hard nudge the window gave his belly. “Someone could hear, yeah?” 

 

Chato settled again the hood, feeling fuzzy, enough to want to lean on something. He looked over the parking lot: empty, ‘cept for them. It was late, and they were nowhere. “Think they’d hear your ass before the car, rippin’ ‘em like that.” 

 

Digger answered with a burp, sighing with relief at the ease of tension in his gut before slurping on. Like the beers prior, he didn’t stop until he was sucking on foam. The can clinked against the rest, Digger shuffling a foot to knock them under the car. A hand came around his gut, an expanse of hairy flesh showing under the hem of his shirt. Digger milked a whimper out himself rubbing at his stomach, looking well past bloated. “More room out than end, mate. Key to chuggin’.” 

 

Chato watched Digger’s hands over his stomach, the organ gurgling under the rough kneading. “Think you’re ‘bout to open up a bad stomach ache, man.” _ Crack.  _ Chato watched Digger’s throat bob, hand roaming his aching gut as he finished yet another can. Chato’s shoulders slumped. “Seriously, man?”

 

Slip’s hand came through the window, offering the last of the cans to Digger. “Think you can finish? Last one, or is that gut of yours ready to pop?” Slip shoved the can up to Digger’s belly, the swell hardly giving under the nudge. Digger snatched the can with a heavy hand, looking just as red in the face as his gut was. 

 

“Piss off.” Digger swore before cracking the can open, hand never leaving his belly once he started drinking it down. He moaned through his swallows, each one looking harder than the last, the hand resting on his gut pressing gently on the swell. Digger stopped, can leaving his mouth foaming, dripping down his chest and over his sloshing gut. Digger groaned. “‘M gonna fuckin’ burst-” 

 

Chato was just about to step in, cut him off before he hurt himself - Digger started sucking it down before could get off the hood. “Easy, man, don’t go pukin’ on us.” 

 

Digger waved him off, can upturned and finishing it off with a stressed swallow. The can hit the rest and Digger went sprawling back on the car, both hands slapping on his overfilled belly. Chato swore it rippled when Digger got to smacking it, knocking free a glutted burp with every one. 

 

“Ol’ Digger don’t hurl, mate, _ just-” _ Digger’s cheeks bulged, hand smacking his jiggling organ in turn with his echoing belch. “Gas up the place.  _ Jesus _ , ‘m  _ full. _ ” Digger looked pitifully at Chato, taking a handful of his belly and giving it a rough jiggle, burp rolling out on cue. “C’mon an’ gimme a rub, baby,” Digger groaned, biting a wet lip at Chato.

 

Chato shook his head. “If we screw and you puke-”

 

Slip laughed, reaching out the window to shake up Digger’s gut, the man just groaning and belching under his heavy hand. “How ‘bout we see how many more he can fit?”

 

Chato opened his mouth, then shut it. He eyed the back seat. “We still got those 40s?”   

**Author's Note:**

> i want digger to burp in my face tbh


End file.
